


In which "you don't go in the kitchen," but Sam does

by ThisWasntTaken



Series: Sweet Justice [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Curry for Christmas, Gabriel is a queen, I am so bad at summaries, M/M, Sam is a princess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 07:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisWasntTaken/pseuds/ThisWasntTaken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean don't do Christmas together because it's not Sam's thing, but Gabriel can't believe that. Dean makes plans with Cas instead, and Gabriel invites Sam along. Sam and Gabe (almost!) reach an agreement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which "you don't go in the kitchen," but Sam does

**Author's Note:**

> I now have a thing for Gabriel calling Sam "princess." It started with "Come Outside" by Metallic_Shadows (http://archiveofourown.org/works/697312/chapters/1283253), and this chapter solidified it. Sorry that "princess" will be the predominate nickname Gabe uses throughout the rest of the series. If you don't like it, copy and paste the fic into a Word document and use the "replace" function. However, there are occasionally comments in which "princess" is important.

Sam doesn’t come in for a while after that. It isn’t until the pumpkin pies are gone and everything is red and green that the (enormously) tall form comes back through the doors of Gabriel’s Chocolate and Coffee.  
“Sam!” Gabriel says. “How’re you?”  
“I’m okay,” Sam says. “And you?”  
“Busier than ever. It’s cold and I’m on the way to a few universities, so I’m getting a lot of college kids dropping in for hot chocolate or coffee,” Gabriel says. “How are things going with—Robert?”  
“Richard. We broke up,” Sam says.  
“What happened?”  
“I wanted to take it slow, you know? I’m still not sure about this whole ‘being gay’ thing. I feel like I should have the right to just be attracted to one or two guys, but everyone else is saying otherwise.”  
“They’re wrong, Sam,” Gabriel says. It startles Sam, and Gabriel knows it’s because he was one of the people telling Sam that. Gabriel needs to lighten the mood, can’t deal with this conversation right now (maybe ever). He laughs. “Half the people saying that probably just want you to broaden your range and be attracted to them.”

Sam orders and sits down, and Gabriel can tell this thing with Richard (or something else) has upset him. Harry comes for work, so Gabriel goes to Sam’s table. “Can I sit down?” Sam motions to the booth seat across from him, and Gabriel sits down. For a while, they’re quiet.

“You wanna talk?” Gabriel asks.  
“About what?” Sam asks.  
Gabriel shrugs, “Whatever’s got that pretty face looking so glum.” Sam sighs. Gabriel waits.

“What about the other half?” Sam asks, after a while.  
“What?” Gabriel asks.  
“Half the people saying that just want me to be attracted to them. What about the other half?”  
Gabriel sighs. “When I was young, you couldn’t be out and proud, but look at me. You know how I am; I practically scream gay. I got picked on a lot and there was no solace to be found at home, so when I did meet other gays, there became this ‘us against them’ mentality. Straight people were the bad guys, the bigots, and, in trying to defend ourselves, we _became_ the bigots. I didn’t give you a chance, didn’t consider how you felt, because you weren’t gay and this was gonna end badly for me. I considered you selfish, not thinking about how your experiment would affect me, but I didn’t consider how my decisions would affect you either. I owe you an apology, Sam.”  
Sam takes a deep breath and nods. “Thank you.”

“Do you wanna talk about Richard?” Gabriel asks. “Did it have anything to do with the fight you guys were having last time?”  
“I guess a little. He realized that I took to him over the other guys at the party because he looked like you, and I really do think that it’s just my ‘type’ or whatever, but he never _really_ got over that. But there’s also that we had been dating for a while and I wasn’t comfortable going… _all the way._ He wanted more than I was really ready to give. Luke says he paints me as a bad guy, but I guess that’s his right. I talked to him that whole night knowing where he was gonna want it to go,” Sam says.  
“Sam, that’s _your_ right. You don’t have to put out just because you talk to someone all night at a party,” Gabriel says.  
Sam laughs. “You sound like my gender studies professor.”  
“It’s true, Sam.”  
“I know,” Sam smiles.

***

Again, Sam starts coming in a lot. One day, about a week before Christmas, the bell chimes and the cold wind bursts in (it’s an unseasonably cold 36° Fahrenheit today). Sam approaches the counter and begins shucking his layers.  
“Damn, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to come to my office if you’re gonna strip,” Gabriel says, raising an eyebrow and leering.  
“Okay, Gabriel,” Sam rolls his eyes.  
“See, your mouth says ‘yes’ but your body says ‘no.’”  
“Anyway,” Sam says, “I’ll have the usual.”  
“No,” Gabriel says.  
“Your mouth says ‘no,’ but your body says ‘yes,’” Sam says, puzzled.  
“I want you to try something new, Sam. Hot chocolate, bondage. Your choice, really.”  
“I’ll go with the hot chocolate,” Sam says, “But I’ll keep the other offer in mind.”  
“Who said it was an offer?”  
“I told you, Gabe: your body says ‘yes,’” Sam laughs. “Hot chocolate?”  
“Mint hot chocolate, coming right up.”  
“I didn’t ask for mint.”  
“I know. That’s what makes me so nice.”

“You got someone coming in to work the register?” Sam asks as Gabriel hands him a hot chocolate made with real mint. “I need to talk to you.”  
“That sounds awful. What’s up?”  
“Just, come talk to me.”

Corbett is the only one scheduled to come in, but he’s mostly trained on the register. However, he’s not due in for another—Gabriel checks the clock—forty-three minutes. After thirty, Sam, long finished with his hot chocolate, walks over to the door.  
“I thought we needed to talk?” Gabriel asks.  
“I’ll be back. I’m starving,” Sam says. “I’m going to that sandwich shop a few doors down. You want anything?”  
“Anything to wash out the taste of your betrayal would be great,” Gabriel calls after him. Sam rolls his eyes and goes out the door.

“Hey, Gabriel,” Corbett says as he comes in.  
“Hey, Corbett. I’m gonna need you to take the register for a while when Sam comes back in. He needs to talk,” Gabriel says.  
“That doesn’t sound good. Trouble in paradise?” Corbett asks, and goes to the back to clock in.  
When he comes back, Gabriel says, “You know Sam and I aren’t dating, right?”  
Corbett looks perplexed. “Really?”  
“Yes.”  
“Well, why not? You guys make googly faces at each other all day.”  
“You make googly faces at Ed. Why aren’t you guys together?”  
“Ed doesn’t know I exist. Sam knows _very well_ that you exist.”  
“Okay, and that’s enough talking,” Gabriel says. “You can bus tables until he gets back.”

Sam walks in and sits down at a booth. When Corbett sees him, he goes into the back to put the dishes in the wash (for now, the bus boy puts them in and the chef takes them out) and nudges Gabriel’s arm. As Gabriel heads onto the floor, Corbett greets a pair of customers that come in.

Gabriel sits across from Sam, who hands him a sandwich, which Gabriel eyes suspiciously.  
“Three meat. Turkey, bacon, and black forest ham,” Sam says.  
Gabriel takes it. “So, what’d you wanna talk about?”  
“Dean told me that he’d made Christmas plans with you guys.”  
“He did?”  
“Yeah,” Sam says.  
“Did he mention me specifically? Because my Christmas plans are ‘give Cas gift’ and ‘stay warm.’”  
“He said ‘Cas and Gabe.’ I thought you hadn’t invited me because it was weird or something.”  
“I haven’t invited you because I had no idea anything was happening. Or that you didn’t have plans. But sure thing, princess. Why don’t you come over and I’ll make dinner and we’ll drink way too much?”  
Sam studiously ignores the nickname. “Are you sure it’s not weird? I don’t wanna put you out on Christmas.”  
“Sam, look at me,” Gabriel says. “I enjoy your company. If you want to come over for Christmas, I’d be pleased as punch to have you.”  
“Okay,” Sam says.  
“Cool. What time’s good for you? Do you wanna help cook?”  
“Sure!”  
“How about three, then?”  
“That sounds great.”

Gabriel ignores the look Corbett gives him (several times) after Sam kisses his cheek before leaving. He also ignores the butterflies in his stomach and the giddy feeling that won’t leave him alone for the rest of the day.

***

“Hey, Cassie. Hey, Dean,” Gabriel says.  
“Hey, Gabe,” Dean says.  
“Hello, Gabriel. How was work?” Cas asks.  
“Sam came by and said we needed to talk,” Gabriel says.  
“You two finally together now?” Dean asks.  
“That is the second time I’ve heard that today,” Gabriel sighs. “No. He said you told him you’d made plans with us?”  
“Yeah. Well, I made plans with Cas, but they were just to hang out here. Sammy and I really don’t do Christmas. He doesn’t like it.”  
“What?” Gabriel asks. “Who doesn’t like _Christmas_?”  
“It’s a long story,” Dean says. “What’d Sammy say about the plans?”  
“I invited him over. He’ll be here at three on Christmas. He wants to help cook.”

***

“Morning, Sammy,” Dean says when Sam stumbles into the kitchen.  
“Morning,” Sam says, pouring a cup of coffee. “Merry Christmas.”  
“Merry Christmas,” Dean says, and his stomach growls and betrays him. He’s been up for an hour but hasn’t eaten the breakfast he made because Sam wasn’t up.  
Sam makes two plates and sits down at the table. “What time are you going to Cas’?”  
“I figured I’d just take you at three,” Dean says. “You’re the designated driver.”  
“I’m staying the night,” Sam says. “Why can’t you?”  
“I can. I didn’t think you’d want to. It’s not like Gabe is your boyfriend.”  
“It’s not like they don’t have a couch,” Sam shrugs.

After he’s done eating, Dean pulls out his phone.  
“Hello, Dean. Merry Christmas,” Castiel says.  
“Hey, Cas. Merry Christmas,” Dean says. “What’re you doing?”  
“Gabriel woke up late and is only just starting on breakfast.”  
Dean laughs. “You didn’t wake him up?”  
“It’s Christmas,” Castiel says.  
“So why not make breakfast instead?”  
Castiel sounds even more serious than usual when he says, “You don’t go in the kitchen, Dean.”

“So, I was talking to Sam, and he said he was planning on staying the night. Since he doesn’t have a car right now, I was gonna take him, but then he wouldn’t have a way to get home tomorrow,” Dean says.  
“I’m sure Gabriel wouldn’t mind taking him.”  
“I was thinking that I’d just stay the night.”  
“Oh,” Castiel says. “I—”  
“No pressure, okay? Just get back to me,” Dean says.  
“Okay.”  
“I’ll see you at three.”  
“I await excitedly.”  
Dean laughs. “You are so lame.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“I like it,” Dean says. “I ‘await excitedly’ until three.”

Okay, so Dean kind of lied when he said that he could spend the night. Castiel has let him stay over when it was really late or the weather was too bad to drive in, but they still haven’t had sex. They’ve only been dating for three months, but they have been dating for _three months_. Gabriel (God help Dean that _Gabriel_ gave him advice about Cas, unsolicited) said that it’s probably because of being such a freak when he was a kid and because of having relationships where guys only wanted his body. Cas is a bit jaded, and if there’s anything Dean can understand, it’s that.

***

At a quarter to one, Gabriel realizes that his friend Kali, who visited from India over Thanksgiving, used the last of several of his spices. He calls Sam.  
“Hey, Gabe,” Sam says.  
“Hey, princess. Merry Christmas,” Gabe says.  
“Merry Christmas.”  
“Can I get you to run by the store for me? I need more cinnamon sticks, cumin seeds, and some fresh ginger.”  
“I’m riding with Dean, but whatever you need that for sounds like a good idea to me, so I’ll see if I can convince him. It'll be open?”  
“That’s right; your car’s in the shop. How’s it going?”  
“Six hundred dollars I don’t have is how it’s going.”  
“Oh, ouch,” Gabriel says. “And I can call in a favor to get the store open for a bit.”

“I’ll see what I can do about your ingredients, okay?” Sam asks.  
“Thank you, princess,” Gabriel says.  
“You’re gonna have to stop calling me that.”  
“Oh, come on! It’s the best one I’ve found so far!”  
“Are you gonna be my prince?”  
“If I do, can I call you princess?”  
“You answer mine and I’ll answer yours.”  
“We’ll talk,” Gabriel says.  
“I’ll see you at three. I’ll call if I can’t convince Dean to take me to the store.”  
“Okay. Thank you, Gigantor.”  
“I think I prefer princess,” Sam says, and Gabriel hears the click while he’s laughing.

An hour later, Gabriel hasn’t gotten a phone call and so sincerely hopes that Sam convinced Dean to stop by the store. The curry takes three hours to cook, so they need to start pretty quickly after Sam gets here.

Sam and Dean show up at two thirty with a bag. “Is that my spices?” Gabriel asks. “I should’ve had you call even if you could go.”  
“Calm down, Gabe. We got your spices. Drama queen,” Sam says, but there’s amusement in his voice.  
Without thinking, Gabriel kisses Sam. He takes the bag. “My babies. Come on, princess. We’ll get the stuff ready and give Castiel time to awkwardly bestow gifts upon Dean.”  
“I told you not to call me ‘princess,’” Sam says, and doesn’t follow Gabe.  
Gabriel grabs his hand and drags him toward the kitchen. “You called me a queen.”  
“You are a queen.”  
“And I will do my best to make a queen out of you. For now, you are princess.”  
“You’re not gonna call me ‘queen’ when you finally figure out I like guys, are you?” Sam asks.  
“I might,” Gabriel grins.

“So, what are we making?” Sam asks.  
“A curry minus the curry leaves. I guess it’s Indian fusion? Kali would kill me, but she doesn’t have to know,” Gabriel says.  
“Sounds good,” Sam says, and, for a while, it’s quiet besides Gabriel telling Sam what to get and, on occasion, Sam confirming if he’s got the right thing (“No, Sam, the cumin. You bought it today. The bag, right there. Where your hand is, Sam.”).

“I hear you hate Christmas,” Gabriel says.  
“Who said that?” Sam asks.  
“How many people do you know that know?”  
Sam looks away. “Why did he tell you?”  
“He was explaining why you guys didn’t have plans,” Gabriel says. “Why?”  
“I don’t hate Christmas any more than I hate Arbor Day or International Talk Like a Pirate Day or any other day of the year—”  
“Is International Talk Like a Pirate Day a real thing?”  
“It’s on September 19th,” Sam says. “I’ve just—never had a reason to celebrate. Woo! We’re in another shitty motel! Dean tried for me, he really did, but it’s a stupid tradition.”  
“That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. All of my good memories from home happened in the time from Halloween to Valentine’s Day.”  
“One 4th of July, Dean and I went out in the Impala and shot fireworks. There were roman candles and the kind that spin around and then sort of jump up in the air. It was great.” Gabriel kisses his cheek.

“Come on, princess,” Gabriel says. “Cassie, make sure nothing terrible happens with the curry. We’ll be back in a minute.”  
“Okay,” Castiel says. Gabriel grabs Sam’s hand and drags him toward the stairs.  
“Where are we going?” Sam asks. “Stop pulling. You’re too small and you’re gonna make me trip.”  
Gabriel gives another tug before dropping Sam’s hand. “We’re going upstairs.”  
“Obviously,” Sam says, stepping onto the upstairs landing. Gabriel grabs his hand and starts pulling again.

“Why are we in your bedroom?” Sam raises an eyebrow.  
“Because I didn’t want to embarrass you by giving you this in front of Dean and Cas,” Gabriel says.  
“So it’s bad enough to embarrass me, but not bad enough that you’d want to do it in front of others,” Sam says. “I don’t want anything, okay? I’ve already told you that Christmas is stupid.”  
“It’s important to me, okay?” Gabriel says, and he looks so earnest that Sam only nods in agreement. “Here.”  
Sam takes the envelope and opens it. What he pulls out shocks him. “Gabriel.”  
“School’s about to start back and you need your car.”  
“I can’t take this,” Sam says, holding the check out to Gabriel.  
“You have to. It’s Christmas.”  
“No, I don’t.”  
“Sam,” Gabriel says.  
“Please don’t make me take this, Gabriel.”  
“Why not?”  
“You’re giving yourself an excuse!” Sam says.  
“What?”  
“You’re giving yourself an out. You keep doing this. I don’t know how to get through to you, and every time I try, you make an excuse as to why I’m not serious. If I take this, you’ll tell yourself that I feel the need to pay you back. If you don’t want me—really don’t want me—I need you to say it to my face. Don’t pull this bullshit.” Gabriel takes the check back and Sam heads downstairs.

“What’s up?” Dean asks.  
“Gabriel’s an asshole, but what else is new,” Sam says. “I wanna go home.”  
“Gabriel!” Dean starts marching towards the stairs.  
“Dean, stop. It’s not that kind of issue,” Sam says. “I just wanna go home.”  
“Sam,” Gabriel says. “Please don’t go. I didn’t mean it that way.”  
“I believe you. But I’m still right, and you know it.”  
“Sam, it’s not that easy. It’s not like I’m being obstinate and—can we talk in private?”  
“Whatever you have to say to him, you can say in front of me,” Dean says.  
Gabriel sighs. “The point is that I was trying to do something nice; I didn’t think you’d flip out about it. Can we just drop it and have a nice night?”  
Sam sighs. “Okay. We’ll talk later.”

Dean and Castiel start watching _It’s a Wonderful Life_ , and Sam and Gabe head back into the kitchen. Sam doesn’t prompt him, because Sam has things he doesn’t want to talk about too, but Gabriel starts to talk anyway.  
“I guess it’s just…so many guys who don’t say they’re experimenting, you know? You start to really like this guy and he’s sweet and funny and cute and you guys make out and you try to take it farther and he says he can’t do it,” Gabriel says. “The first time, maybe even the first few times, you won’t get it. You might have an idea, but you have to ask him what he means. ‘I just can’t do someone with a dick.’ Well, it doesn’t get much clearer than that,” Gabriel sighs. “And you never said you weren’t gay, not really. And you flirted back, and then I invited you to stay and you admitted that you couldn’t do someone with a dick.”  
“That’s not what I said, and don’t you _dare_ try to make it out that way,” Sam says.  
Dean can’t hear the words, but the tone of voice makes him look over and ask, “Everything okay, Sammy?”  
“It’s fine, Dean. Watch your movie,” Sam says. Dean turns back to the TV.  
“I know that’s not what you said, princess, but that’s what I heard. When I was at cooking school, there was a guy who found out I was gay and started flirting with me. I thought, naturally, that it meant he was gay, too. We went on dates, he called me ‘babe,’ we kissed all the time, and he took me back to his apartment and things were going great. Then he got my pants off and flipped. I guess people like that can find all the homophobes, and I was in the hospital for two weeks. I haven’t really dated at all since then, not just straight guys,” Gabriel says. “I meant it when I said you’re allowed to be as many or as few shades of gay as you want, but I guess I need more than a ‘maybe.’”  
Sam kisses Gabe, just a quick peck on the lips, and says, “I’m sorry that happened.”  
“Me, too, princess,” Gabriel says. “And I’m sorry it means I can’t give you what you want.”  
“I just want you to give what you can, Gabe. I’m giving what I can, you give what you can, and we’ll see how it goes. You’re not the only one invested in this.”  
“So you’ve got a sadomasochistic side. I’ll keep that in mind,” Gabriel says, but his kiss seems almost like an agreement.


End file.
